


You Make Me Feel Like I'm Walking on Water

by ringsofneptvne



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Chan is Hot(tm), Chan is also Rich(tm), Just Roll With It, M/M, Minho can't swim, Minho falls for Chan - hard, Quite Literally, but like softcore dw, get that dick Minnie!, idk why that's the first tag but it's important to the plot so, lots of aftercare bc it's important, some smut, sorry bby, who'd've guessed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2020-12-07 23:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20984579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ringsofneptvne/pseuds/ringsofneptvne
Summary: The first time that Minho realised he had fallen for the Hot Pool Boy, he literally fell in front of said Hot Pool Boy. The first time Minho realised that Hot Pool Boy had apparently fallen for him as well, he was lending him clothes and a place to sleep and then kissing him senseless.





	You Make Me Feel Like I'm Walking on Water

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt number 68 for SKZ Fest!
> 
> Y'all I had so much fun writing this

Minho never really thought of himself as the type to pine, especially not over someone he had never met before. And yet, here he was, with his eye on—

“That is, by far, the hottest man I’ve seen in my entire life,” Minho’s best friend Hyunjin said, plopping down in the chaise next to him and looking in the same direction as Minho. 

“You have a fiancé, dumbass,” Minho replied without looking at him. 

“Yeah, and? I was admiring him,” Hyunjin said in response, kicking water droplets up toward Minho’s face. 

Well, come to think of it, Woojin was standing next to Hot Pool Boy. Minho grimaced, he hadn’t even realised that his friend’s husband-to-be was standing next to the guy that he wanted to be his husband. 

As his thoughts became increasingly confusing, they were all replaced with one simple thought as Hot Pool Boy turned around and Minho could see something other than just his back. 

_ Oh. Rail me.  _

Hot Pool Boy was covered in muscle; his shoulders were broad, his pecs were finely shaped, and his torso was well defined. This was a man who could play Captain America if he wanted to, he was shaped like a Dorito with those broad shoulders and that small waist. 

“Are you gawking at my fiancé?” Hyunjin asked, yanking Minho’s sunglasses off of his face and making the older boy yelp as his pupils rapidly tried to adjust to the increase of light. 

“You complete  _ asshole _ ,” Minho squinted back, grabbing for his sunglasses. “I most certainly was not!” 

“Then what were you doing? You were looking in that direction!” Hyunjin stood up with the sunglasses in his hand and held them above his head as Minho stood to try and reach them. 

“Did you not see the godlike specimen next to Woojin?!” Minho hissed. “Give me my fucking sunglasses, you’re making me look dumb!” He made the fatal mistake of jumping for the glasses; the wood planks beneath him were slick with water, meaning that the next thing he knew, he was on the floor. 

Hyunjin began to laugh, and Minho was able to wrestle his sunglasses from his friend’s weakened grip. He shoved them back onto his face and clambered onto the chaise in what he hoped was a dignified manner but knew was the complete opposite. 

Much to his dismay, Minho took the opportunity to look back at Hot Pool Boy only to see that Woojin was making his way over to their cabana, Hot Pool Boy in tow. Even worse, Hot Pool Boy was looking directly at him with a smirk on his sinfully full lips. 

“Hey guys,” Woojin called, making Hyunjin sit up immediately and stretch out his arms to his fiancé, who swooped into them to press a harsh kiss to his lips. 

Hot Pool Boy caught Minho’s eye and started silently fake gagging behind Woojin’s back, making Minho snort and nod along. 

As Hyunjin tugged his fiancé down onto his chaise and nearly toppled the furniture over, Hot Pool Boy stepped forward. “Hey, how’s it going?” 

Even his voice was melodic. There was literally nothing imperfect about this man. His hair? Perfect. His eyes? Perfect. His smile? Perfect. His body? Perfect. (Minho would wager this damn vacation that his dick was perfect too.) 

It took Minho a moment to stop fantasising about Hot Pool Boy’s body and the wonders that were undoubtedly hidden there to realise that he had been asked a question. “Oh! We’re good, you?” 

Hot Pool Boy smiled and threaded his fingers through his blonde hair to shake some water out. “I’m great! My hair’s gonna be a mess in just a bit, which is unfortunate in front of a man such as yourself. It’s gonna frizz way up when it dries, I can tell you that.” 

And oh, god, how Minho wanted to take advantage of the moment it was dry to thread his fingers through it and tug.  _ It’s not a mess at all,  _ he would comment, a seductive smile on his face as he— Wait, was Hot Pool Boy flirting with him? 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Hyunjin laughed from his new position atop Woojin’s knee. 

Hot Pool Boy shrugged nonchalantly. “I need to shower, anyway. Big day tomorrow.” 

“Oh? Us too!” Minho said. “They’re getting married,” he said in a stage whisper. 

“Oh, so you guys are the other group! My mother was wondering why we had to have the buildings sectioned off. I figured there was no point in having all of them since we really don’t need them, but my mother… well, she sees things a different way.” Hot Pool Boy laughed good-naturedly. 

“All mothers do seem to,” Minho agreed. “So? Are you… you know?” 

“Getting married? No, heavens no. My sister found the love of her life, apparently. She’s only twenty one, but I’m gonna roll with it.” Hot Pool Boy sat down on the end of Minho’s chaise. “I’m just hoping she’s not being too impulsive.” 

“Well, now, don’t  _ you _ sound like a mother.” Hyunjin broke in, nestled into Woojin’s arms. 

“Eh, I can’t help it,” Hot Pool Boy replied with a shrug. “The family company has a big storm coming if anything goes wrong. Then again, with her marrying this dude from the other company, that leaves me free to marry whomever.” 

“Couldn’t you, anyway?” 

“Ah, you don’t understand big business life. Your innocence must be kept.” He was interrupted as the watch on his wrist lit up and buzzed. “Ah, shit, the last minute preparations have hit, I’ve gotta head over to my cabana. It was lovely meeting you guys, thanks for introducing us, Woojin!” 

“Hey, no problem, man,” Woojin called back. “You’re welcome over at any time!” 

“Thanks,” Hot Pool Boy said over his shoulder as he lightly jogged in a different direction, the light from the afternoon sun striking him such that he had a glow around him. 

Minho sighed, watching him leave. “What an attractive man,” he said under his breath. 

His comment didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who snorted and recited it to his fiancé. 

“Yeah,” Woojin agreed. “You’re not wrong.” He shot upright, his eyes wide. “Shit. Did anyone get his name?” 

  
  


*

  
  


Hot Pool Boy quickly was forgotten as preparations for the wedding increased in intensity. Minho didn’t even think about him until he was busy fussing over trying to tie his bowtie and fix his hair in the mirror - where both were difficult enough tasks by themselves - when Jeongin came breezing past and began to rant. 

Minho could only do so much at one time, where multitasking was a fantastical idea, so after he messed his bowtie up for the third consecutive time he turned to grab the younger by the shoulders to actually pay attention to what he was saying. 

“--don’t understand common courtesy, I swear, they think that everything should go their way and their way only, it’s like they think they’re royalty, I  _ swear _ \--”

“Innie, what? Slow down, slow down, my ears are old and I can’t keep up.” 

“You’re not  _ that _ old, hyung, you’re just lazy and like to pretend you’re ancient.” Jeongin had a pout on his lips, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squinted up. 

“You wound me,” Minho deadpanned. “First things first, do you know how the fuck to tie this thing? I swear, they should have just gotten the clip ones.” 

“How is it that I’m  _ so much younger _ and yet know how to tie a tie when you don’t?” Jeongin complained as he adjusted the fabric so it lined up before he began the knot. 

Minho rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well. I’ve never had much occasion to, okay?”

“And I have?”

“You’ve probably - ah, a little tight there - spent more time watching YouTube videos on how to tie a bowtie than I have.” 

Jeongin glared at him. “We have forty five minutes to the wedding. Get yourself ready, because something tells me that this is going to be an interesting night.” 

The younger wasn’t wrong, Minho decided forty minutes later, when neither of the grooms had shown up. All of the rest of the wedding party was there, nervously waiting, shifting around, excitedly whispering. 

“Do you know where they are?” someone hissed to Minho, who shook his head. 

“No idea in the slightest.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot, chewing on his lower lip nervously even as he recalled Jeongin yelling at him for it. 

Two minutes before the wedding was supposed to start, Woojin showed up. He seemed to be slightly out of breath, but his eyes were shining with excitement, reflecting the fairy lights and making them appear as though they were holding the universe. 

“Is Hyunjin here?” he asked in a hushed tone, his hand subconsciously fidgeting with the button of his suit coat. 

“Not yet,” Minho replied, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you might know where he was.” 

“Here, I’m here!” Hyunjin’s voice broke into their conversation, and Minho could tell without even looking that he was smiling broadly, his eyes pushed up into little crescents. 

Woojin turned at his first syllable, looking his soon-to-be husband up and down with his mouth agape. “Jinnie….” 

“Hm?”

“You… you look, uh--” 

As Woojin stumbled over his words, Hyunjin visibly drew in on himself, even if it wasn’t much. “Uh oh. Is something wrong? God, I knew the red pocket square was too much, I’m so sorry, I—” 

“No! No, Hyunjinnie, god no, you’re just… wow.” 

Minho rolled his eyes. “Hyung, your gay is showing.” 

The tips of Woojin’s ears turned red and he cleared his throat as he looked away, tugging on the bottom of his suit coat to straighten it out. “You don’t say.”

“Minho hyung,” Hyunjin giggled as he latched himself onto his fiancé’s arm with a sickeningly (to Minho) sweet smile aimed at Woojin. “Don’t be mean.”

Minho rolled his eyes once more, for luck. It really was going to be a long night. 

*

The first time Minho had a chance to get away, it was about one in the morning. It had been dance after dance, drink after drink, kiss after kiss for the happy couple. What Minho really needed was a breath of cold, fresh air. Now, being summer, there was a bit of a lack of cold air, but he figured that the sea air would do just as well for him. A nice walk on the beach was exactly what he needed. 

“Are you sure, hyung?” Jeongin asked right before he stepped foot out the door. “Jinnie hyungie’ll miss you.” 

“Which one?” Minho laughed. “Besides, they’re so engrossed in each other - emphasis on gross - that I don’t think they could possibly notice that I’m gone.” 

Jeongin tilted his head with raised eyebrows. “I mean, if you say so. But honestly? I think someone’s bound to notice.” 

“I just need some fresh air; don’t worry, I’ll be quick. Maybe. Probably.” 

The younger sighed, sliding his tie off as he slowly shook his head. “They’ll probably be celebrating their marriage, anyway. Just head back to your own cabin once you’re done, and I’ll see you in the morning. Assuming you’re awake, that is.”

“Right.” Minho pushed through the door and gave a little half wave to Jeongin as he stepped out onto the sand-covered pavement. Hearing his dress shoes grind on the sand, the corners of his mouth quirked up as he unlaced them and slid them off, tugging on his socks to slide them off of his feet. Stuffing his socks into his shoes, he moved off of the pavement and into the sand, shifting his weight around and feeling the sand slide between his toes. A walk on the beach was exactly what he needed. 

Dropping his shoes off at his cabin, he continued along the path until he got to the boardwalk. It extended a ways over the water, making way for several more little cabins atop the water. And beyond that, there were boards placed further apart, allowing the water to flow over them. It seemed like a weird choice to Minho to have boards with no use, but he could dangle his feet off the edge anyway. 

The scruff of his bare feet on the smooth boards was the only thing he heard beyond the waves crashing on the shore behind him. Passing by the empty cabins, he continued on, making his way to the very edge, where the logs were randomly placed in the water. It wasn’t until he looked down and saw thin layers of water sliding around that he realised that there was a sheet of glass, supported by the logs that he had thought were for no purpose. 

In his somewhat sleep-deprived state, stepping on the glass seemed like a fine idea. He could go further out into the ocean without actually having to swim, and—

“Minho?” A familiar voice startled him out of his reverie, making him jump and then slip on the slick sheet of glass. Before he knew it, Minho was toppling over, water rushing past his ears and into his nose, filling his mouth as he tried to gasp for air. 

“C-can’t—” he tried to say, attempting to cough water out of his lungs and also keep himself afloat, his limbs thrashing wildly. 

Within the span of what felt like an aeon to Minho but was probably only about two seconds, there was a splash and then a pair of strong arms wrapped around his middle. “I’ve gotcha,” the voice said, warmer this time, comforting. “It’s okay, Minho. I’ve got you.” 

Minho cling to his saviour like a frightened cat, keeping himself as far out of the water as he could. Once he was set on the surface of the glass, he scrambled back to the wooden deck, curling into a ball and trying to conserve warmth. 

“Can’t swim, huh?” 

Minho looked up to see what face was attached to the warm voice. “You?” he said, his teeth still chattering when his vision filled with the features of Hot Pool Boy. 

“Yeah, me,” Hot Pool Boy chuckled. “I’ve gotcha, okay? You’re not gonna drown on my watch.” 

Minho blinked a couple of times. “Um, thank you, for, uh….” He drifted off, unsure as to what to say as he looked Hot Pool Boy up and down. “Oh, god, you’re still in your tux!”

“Oh, yeah, no don’t worry about it” Hot Pool Boy shrugged, water sloughing off of his shoulders and into the ocean. “At least I didn’t have to perform mouth to mouth. Although….” 

Minho felt his eyebrows raise. “Oh?” 

“Eh, maybe another time.” Hot Pool Boy looked him over as well, taking in his shivering form. “You seem kinda cold, Minho. How about we get you some dry clothes?” 

“Yeah, okay, but can I ask a question first?” 

A smile quirked up the corners of his mouth. “You just did.”

Minho narrowed his eyes at the other, hoping to look disappointed but figuring he probably looked more like a pissed-off, drowned cat. “Shut the fuck up. I just wanna know how you know my name.” 

“Oh, that! Yeah, your friend - Woojin, right? - pointed you and the other guy out, he said something along the lines of “my friend Minho and my fiance Hyunjin” and the entire time I was walking over I was hoping that you weren’t the fiance.” He stopped to smirk. “Selfish, I know. But damn, I’m happy you’re not the fiance.” 

“And why’s that?” 

“Because that means that I could carry you back to my villa to both conserve heat and also prevent you stepping on any broken glass with bare feet, without making it seem like I’m moving in on someone else’s man.” 

Minho felt a faint blush rise to his cheeks. “O-oh,” he said in a near-whisper. “Wait, your villa? We could just go back to mine, it’s--” 

“Further away,” Hot Pool Boy cut in with a wink. “Besides, do you  _ really _ have warm clothing?” 

“Well, not exactly,” Minho replied slowly. “I’m just staying two weeks, and I wasn’t planning on falling into the ocean at any given time.” 

“Exactly what I thought,” Hot Pool Boy nodded. “I have hoodies galore, and really warm sweats. Come back to my villa with me? I’ll even make you homemade hot chocolate.” 

“Well that’s gonna be hard to turn down,” Minho chuckled. “Okay, I’ll go with.” 

Hot Pool Boy smiled and picked Minho up, carrying him bridal style down the path, true to his word. “There, see? Conserving body heat.” 

And it was true, Minho shivered a little bit less in the other’s arms, feeling warmth radiate off of his broad shoulders, along his arms, and across his chest as he held Minho close. 

“Feel better yet?” 

Minho hummed in response, feeling Hot Pool Boy’s laugh echo through his chest more than hearing it. “Sure.” 

“Good. We’re almost there.” 

They reached the villa within a couple of minutes, Hot Pool Boy only setting Minho down once they were at his doorstep. “Here we are,” he said as he opened the door. “Home, sweet temporary home.” 

Minho smiled over at him, stepping inside as Hot Pool Boy held the door open for him. “Our villas are the same,” he said, “but somehow yours feels nicer.” 

“It’s probably because we’re in it at the same time.” 

“You’re such a flirt, and I don’t even know your name.” 

“You--” Hot Pool Boy stopped abruptly. “I never gave you my name? Holy shit, I’m so, so sorry. You deserve better than that.” 

“It’s not a big deal,” Minho giggled. “Though, I would appreciate calling you something other than Hot Pool Boy in my head.”

“You think I’m hot?” 

“I’d have to be blind not to see it.” 

Hot Pool Boy smiled broadly. “My name is Chan. And you look cold, so put these on,” he said, tossing a pair of sweats at Minho. 

“Chan,” Minho repeated, catching the sweatpants deftly and tasting the name on his lips, and not for the last time, he assumed. “Well, you’re definitely something. Do you mind if I strip?” 

“Do you mind if I watch?” 

Minho faltered in his assured ways, a blush tinging his cheeks a fair shade of pink. “Not really,” he all but whispered. 

Chan grinned. “I’m just joking. I’m not gonna watch, but I do expect to see you in my sweatpants when I come back in.” And with that, he exited the villa. 

Minho watched what he was doing as he pulled his wet clothing from his body, looking on with a fond smile on his face as he saw Chan build the beginnings of a fire in the sand-encircled fire ring. He had just finished pulling on the sweatpants - which were too big for his somewhat slimmer figure and drooped low enough on his hips that he pulled the drawstring tight - when Chan came back inside. 

“My turn,” he said, reaching around Minho to grab a different pair of sweatpants. 

“Oh? Do you want me to go tend to the fire, then?” 

“I mean, if you don’t mind. It won’t go out, but you can never be too certain. Do you want a shirt, sweatshirt, anything?” Chan placed a hand on Minho’s hip as he leaned around him to grab a sweatshirt after the other nodded. “Here’s this, then; I just wore it to bed last night, so it’s not dirty.” 

“Thank you,” Minho replied before he walked out toward the fire, a giddy smile on his face as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head. 

It wasn’t too long before Chan came over to him and pulled him into a tight hug against his body, warmth radiating between the two of them. “Feeling better yet?” 

Minho hummed in response, turning so that he was facing the other. “Yeah, thank you.” 

They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment, Minho watching the reflection of the fire dance in Chan’s eyes and make them seem even more ethereal. They were both silent, until Chan asked, “can I kiss you?” 

Both of them knew that all bets were off as Minho breathed out a single “ _ yes _ ” in reply. 

Minho had never been kissed so fiercely and yet so gently at the same time before. Chan’s hands were everywhere - on the back of his neck, in his hair, on his waist, running up and down the expanse of his back. And Minho had been right when he had guessed that his first taste of Chan’s name on his lips would not be his last, as the other began to bite and suck at the sensitive expanse of skin just below his jawline. 

“Chan,” Minho gasped, the name becoming a mantra on his lips as the other’s hands slipped 

across his thighs to pick him up. 

“You’re so pretty, Minho,” Chan whispered, biting gently at his earlobe. “So, so pretty. And you look so good in my clothes.” 

Minho didn’t get a chance to respond before Chan was sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and rolling it between his teeth. He couldn’t help but gasp, utterly out of control of the situation but not minding at all. 

The two spent a couple of hours out by the fire, until the sun began to lighten the horizon and turn the sky a deep grey. Chan finally fully relinquished his attack on every expanse of Minho’s skin that he could reach and stood up, offering Minho a hand. “Let’s go to sleep,” he murmured. “I can take the couch, if you want the bed.” 

“I could just go back to my villa, otherwise,” Minho replied, accepting Chan’s hand anyway.

“Yeah, but then I would have to walk you, and this one’s so much closer.” 

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t be bothering you.” 

“Where did you come up with that idea?” Chan asked, pressing yet another kiss to Minho’s already bruised lips. 

“I don’t want to take up all of your space, I’m already wearing your clothes,” Minho mumbled against the other’s mouth. 

“Trust me when I tell you that it’s okay and you really don’t have to worry about it.” 

Minho scrunched up his nose in rebellion, and Chan kissed it. “You’re so… amazing,” Chan said. 

“Am not.” 

“Are too.” 

“No.” 

Chan quieted him down with another kiss to his mouth. “Yes.” 

Minho hummed and pressed his head against Chan’s chest, hearing the steady thump of his heartbeat. “Fine,” he conceded, “I’ll sleep in your villa tonight. The catch is that I get to do this all night.” 

“Do what?” 

“Listen to your heart beat.” 

Minho felt more than heard his chuckle. “Alright, baby. That can be arranged.” 

*

When Minho woke up, his head was still pressed against Chan’s chest, their limbs entangled. His heartbeat was slower now, thumping along a rhythmic track and never faltering. He could get used to waking up like this, Minho decided, as he traced his fingers along the expanse of clothed skin. 

Chan shifted around, his hand finding Minho’s head and threading his fingers through the other’s hair and massaging his scalp. “Good morning, baby,” he said, his voice raspy with sleep. 

“‘M not sure it’s morning anymore,” Minho giggled in response. “The sun is very much awake.” 

Chan sighed and Minho chuckled again. “You’re a brat,” Chan murmured. 

“A brat who needs to shower, then,” Minho replied. “I’m gonna take a shower. I need to get the sand out of my hair.” 

Chan nodded slowly. “Sounds good, I’ll take one after you.” 

Minho looked at him out of the corner of his eye. “We could, otherwise, conserve water.” 

“What are you suggesting?” 

“Shower with me, dumbass.” 

And that was how Minho ended up in the shower with Chan on his knees in front of him, kissing down his abdomen as water cascaded off of his back. 

“You’re clean?” 

“Yes, Channie, I am, oh  _ god  _ that feels good,” Minho whimpered, breathless as Chan sucked a bruise into his hip. He threaded his fingers into the other’s wet hair as Chan pulled on his dick, pumping it to full hardness. “Holy shit, don’t stop.” 

“Mm, you’re so vocal, baby. I love it.” Chan pressed a kiss to the tip of his dick, proceeding to lick into the slit. 

“F-fuck, holy  _ shit _ ,” Minho gasped, pressing himself against the wall of the shower. 

“Been a while, huh?” Chan asked with a smile, continuing to stroke the length in his hand. He brought his other hand up and made a tight ring around the tip of Minho’s cock, massaging right under the head with his thumb. “Feel good?” 

Minho was gasping for breath at the sensations attacking his senses, pleasure coursing through his body and making itself known with wave after wave of chills even in the hot shower. “Yes,” he whined as his scalp tingled. “So good, Channie!” 

“You sound so good when you say my name like that,” Chan said, his voice deepening to a rasp, almost a growl. “Say it again, baby.” He sunk down onto Minho’s dick as soon as he finished speaking, taking him in until his mouth was full, then bobbing up and down and taking him further each time. 

“Chan!” Minho gasped as he took him all the way in, pressing his nose against Minho’s skin. “Oh, god, oh,  _ oh _ ,” his whines grew in pitch as the sensations made their way up his body, his hips canting upward and bucking forward once until Chan pressed his forearm across his hips to keep him pressed against the wall. 

Chan pulled off, his eyes watery and rimmed with unshed tears, a grin playing on his face as water rivulets dripped from his hair. His hand immediately replaced his mouth on Minho’s hard cock, using his wrist to maximise the feeling as his other hand rubbed on the very tip of his length. He pressed kisses down the side of it before sucking one of Minho’s balls into his mouth and rubbing the other one in his hand. 

It was all Minho could do not to scream as Chan ran his fingers along the tip of his cock again, lightly pinching his foreskin and still swirling his tongue around. The feeling of sheer pleasure was overwhelming, and he voiced this as he whimpered. “Feels so good, Channie, ‘m gonn-- ah! I’m gonna cum, Channie, I’m gonna--!” 

“Then cum for me, baby,” Chan whispered just loud enough to be heard over the constant patter of the water hitting the tile. 

Minho was left breathless as Chan’s sultry voice pushed him to completion, and he stood there, gasping, as the other pumped him all the way through his orgasm. 

“You’re so good for me, baby,” Chan said, grounding Minho after he felt like his soul was leaving his body. “So good.” 

He gently rubbed Minho’s body down, shampooed his hair, and washed him up as Minho giggled and did the same for Chan, somewhat exhausted. They even toweled each other down after they got out, Chan smiling at the other and Minho sighing in satisfaction. 

“That was…” Minho started, holding onto Chan’s shoulders 

“You’re so gorgeous,” Chan said before he could finish. 

“Oh, please.” 

“No, I’m serious. You’re the most astonishing person I’ve met. You’re beautiful, charismatic, and I’m just wondering what country I saved in my past life to have met someone like you, let alone have  _ you _ , a god, take interest in  _ me _ .” 

“A  _ god _ ,” Minho spluttered. “I’m nothing of the sort.”

“You’re absurdly hot.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself.” 

They continued on like that until Minho’s remarkably dry phone began to buzz. 

“Hello?” Minho said, trying his best to get Chan to be quiet and being wholly ineffective. 

_ “Yeah, so. Where are you?” _ Jeongin asked on the other end of the line. 

“Oh, shit, I forgot about that.” 

_ “About what? About me third wheeling my brother and his new husband?”  _

“I mean… yeah,” Minho admitted, doing his best to avoid squealing as Chan slid his hands around his waist. “Stop it!” he hissed, tucking the phone against his chest. 

_ “So,” _ Jeongin began again, sounding completely done with the whole situation.  _ “Who are you with?”  _

“Hm? Nobody, just myself. I’m, uh… yelling at a seagull.” 

“Are you calling me a seagull?” Chan murmured lowly in his ear. 

“I hate you,” Minho replied quietly.

_ “What did I ever do to you?” _

“Not you, the seagull!” 

“Why am I the seagull?” 

_ “Where the hell are you?!” _

“I’m at a friend’s villa!” Minho said, cutting both of the others off before they could continue. 

_ “A friend? I thought Hyunjin was your only friend!” _

“And you, by extension.” 

_ “Well, sure, okay. But what friend?” _

“Ah… you remember the other group, who had the other side of the building last night?” 

There was a brief moment of silence.  _ “You’re fucking kidding.” _

“Just fucking, not kidding,” Chan said loud enough for Jeongin to hear. 

_ “Hyung, please tell me he’s kidding.” _

“Ah… not exactly,” Minho replied into the silence. “I can head over to where you are, Innie.” 

“Aw, leaving so soon?” Chan mumbled against the skin under his jaw, gently biting on a bruise from the night prior. 

“I’ve gotta, Channie,” Minho replied, gently resting his head atop the other’s. 

_ “Channie? Dear god, Minho hyung, are you with Bang Chan?”  _

“The one and the only,” Chan chuckled. “Why do you ask?” 

There was another silence, longer than the others. 

“Jeongin? Everything okay?” Minho asked. 

_ “We’ve gotta fucking talk, hyung.” _

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed!
> 
> My twitter is @ ringsofneptvne as well, if you're interested uwu  
I might post updates there?? Maybe???? Idk, ig, but ANYWAY


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